


“This wallpaper and I are fighting a duel to the death..."

by notjustmom



Series: “Quotation is a serviceable substitute for wit.” [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Episode: s01e03 The Great Game, Oscar Wilde quotes, a bit of canon, bored
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-25 01:21:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14367849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: The first in series of stories using Oscar Wilde quotes (or those usually attributed to him, though I will try to find a source for each quote) as my prompts. As always, there is no plan for how this may end up.





	“This wallpaper and I are fighting a duel to the death..."

**Author's Note:**

> This is the beginning of a quote often considered to be Wilde's last words; however, according to one source, he said it weeks before his death and that his actual last words were part of a Catholic prayer.

He had never bothered with criticism before. Yes, of course he had been told by tutors, and Mycroft often enough took great joy in correcting him when he put a step wrong; usually it was some error in syntax, or was told to 'dumb it down' for those less erudite, the opinions of others... others... but John wasn't an 'other.'

John was... what, precisely? 

So, he didn't know who the PM was. He wasn't even sure why he had asked John in the first place - he closed his eyes, and promptly removed the name from his database, making room for the way John's eyes twinkled last night even as he complained about what was currently in the freezer - luckily he was out at the shops when he had brought the latest specimen home - John wasn't going to like it. Why did it matter so much to him what John thought? And the whole solar system thing - what did that ever matter as long as the sun didn't stop working - delete delete delete... he unrolled out of the foetal position and somehow managed to roll up to sit on the edge of the couch, only to lift his eyes to catch the bright yellow grin of the smiley face - John hadn't much liked that either. Personally, he thought it added something to the wallpaper - it broke up the pattern, if one stared too long at it - damn it. He needed to do something. Anything. Loud, big - wait - there was that gun, where had John put it - he couldn't remember - ah yes - there in the drawer - still loaded. John was going to give it to Lestrade, but had been too exhausted and then it had been forgotten - tulips... fucking tulips, just one after the other, who thought tulips belonged on a wall - at least there wasn't any pink... pink. Pink. PINK! He grabbed the gun out of the drawer and fell into his chair. Suddenly he was transported back to that one time Mycroft had lowered himself to actually play with him, he had been, what, five? Cowboys and - bang, bang, bang -

BANG!

Shit. That felt good -

BANG! BANG! Oh, Mrs. Hudson isn't going to like this - hell why not keep going, symmetry and all... might as well -

BANG!

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm bored."

"WHAT?!"

"BORED!"

BANG! BANG!

"Give me that. What did the wallpaper ever do to you?"


End file.
